


How Cheesy

by perilouspage



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perilouspage/pseuds/perilouspage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymously requested on Tumblr: grimmons au two miserable people meeting at a wedding</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Cheesy

On Grif’s second helping of wedding cake and his fourth glass of wine, Donut invites his guests to the dance floor. He declares that he wants to have a few couple’s dances, and thus takes Doc’s hand and leads him to the center of the room. Grif’s floor-side table gives him an excellent view of the couples streaming in. He pointedly jabs his cake and eats another forkful. As he chews, he laments that he’s not nearly drunk enough for this nonsense, why had Donut invited him and stuck him at a table full of strangers ugh. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

The man sitting across from him clears his throat. Then, slightly timid, he asks, “So, uh, how do you know Donut and Doc?”

“Doc and I were friends in college,” Grif replies. “I know Donut through him.” He says all of this without opening his eyes or un-pinching his nose.

The stranger laughs. The sound is uncertain and slightly forced. “Same with me and Donut,” he says. An awkward silence follows, in which Grif looks up at the man, and the man grins in response. Still, neither says anything. Grif prays that his obesity will catch up to him soon, so that he may drop dead and not have to deal with this situation.

“So, what’s your name?” the man finally utters.

With a sigh of relief, Grif responds, “Dexter. But call me Grif.”

The man nods. “I’m Richard, but people call me Simmons.”

“Nice to meet you, man,” Grif says, and then takes a dramatic swig of his wine.

Simmons eyes follow the glass to the man’s lips and linger there. When Grif makes eye contact again, Simmons’ eyes immediately snap up, then to the dance floor.

“Nice,” Grif chuckles. “If you were looking for a dance partner, all you had to do was ask.”

Simmons turns purple and mutters, “Shut up.”

Grif eyes the man across from him. Maybe he also lets his eyes fall to Simmons’ lips briefly. The rest of the glass of wine disappears in one gulp.

There. Grif believes he’s precisely drunk enough for this nonsense now.


End file.
